Our helpless song, (we sing together)
by The Green Stag
Summary: Steve wakes up in a world where Shield captures and experiments on any superhero they find. The avengers are losing the war against shield, and the only one who can tip the scales is Captain America. Using the "Forge", a time machine created by Bruce Banner and Tony Stark, Steve embarks on an an adventure throughout the ages, to save the future he hopes to have. (Bruce/Steve)


**This series is also written by miss "brandy-gold" and I Would not have been able to do it without her. Thank you so much my lovely! You are always my Bruce!**

chapter 1

Steve's roger's eyes snapped open, throttled to consciousness by severe and bone-penetrating cold. The muscles in his neck spasmed causing his jaw to slam into a broken chunk of ice. As he reflexively flinched away,a primal smothering terror seized his chest as he realized he was suffocatingly encased in raw arctic ice. Drawing a breath to scream, nerves in Steve's abdomen compressed under panicked muscle trauma. His diaphragm contracted deep into his body and Steve began to asphyxiate. Wave after wave of rib breaking contractions wracked his frozen body, sending him into violent death throes. Steve's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and ropes of clinging foam and mucus spilled from his mouth. His heart strained under his breast, exerting its last reserves of energy to keep beating.

Crushed inside his coffin of ice, Steve grasped at the threads of consciousness keeping him alive. A man's voice, soft and honest called Steve backwards, begging him to let go and embrace the dark. Telling him with flashes of warm and pure memories that he would be safe. Steve hesitated, the siren call of his fallen friend so sweet and painful his very soul ached for it. He looked,oh god he looked, and there was Bucky, grinning from ear to ear, welcoming him with open arms.

"Is it really you?" Steve asked, his own voice ringing hollow in the dark.

"Its me. It's Bucky."

"Bucky?"

"Come on."

"Bucky."

"I _thought_ you were dead."

"I though you were-"

Steve's vision warped at the _wrongness _of the memory. Their words were backwards. Each echoing the part of the other. the figure of Bucky started to become-

"Smaller." Steve finished the last of his sentence. And Bucky did become smaller, or Steve was just floating up. It was hard to tell here. he waved sadly at the ghost of his friend, and a perfect reflection of his goodbye waved back.

**29...**

**30!**

**BREATHE! COME ON ROGERS.**

**1..**

**2..**

**3..**

Steve slowly flowed back into the world, as if his consciousness was water filling the bottom of the empty ditch that was his body. he could feel warmth radiating from his heart and head. Steve followed it,up... up...up into the sensations, craving to simply _feel_ again.

**Give him another shot! 6.. 7... 8..**

**I could cause damage to-**

**11...12.. Just fucking do it! were gona lose our only hope here! BREATHE DAMN YOU!**

18... 19... 20...

There, i gave him the last-

Don't you die on me rogers! come on! 29... 30.. BREATHE!

Steve choked on humid air being exhaled into his lungs. His spine arched up painfully and he twisted away from the hands that held his face down. Forceful lips attacked his own, pushing hot puffs of his breath down his throat. The_ kiss_ was rough and he felt a man's uncut stubble tear at his soft skin. Steve tried to voice his refusal, but the man continued his breathing, making Steve's chest swell with borrowed air. He could feel his eyes roll forward and he stared into his reflection. The man breathing for him was wearing little square glasses that had fogged up from the mixture of breath and cold. The man locked eyes with him and Steve saw panic in his eyes as he bent down for another breath.

"Hey! Can you hear me Steve?" The man asked and pinched his shoulder. The small flair of pain roused Steve into action, making him suck in a desperate breath before nearly coughing a lung out.

"Is he good to go? Cause we need to go. Jarvis can't keep shield off us for much-" Steve screamed in agony when a piercing, loud alarm threatened to pop his eardrums. A rough hand clamped over his mouth to stifle his angry howl, and Steve caught the man's thick wrist in his hands and squeezed to Show his fury at being manhandled. "Easy soldier, we are -ah- trying to help you." The man above him growled and a part of Steve recoiled in fear from The _inhuman _tone of it. He flung his arms away and tried to scramble to his feet. Steve slid on a metal ice pick and slammed face first into wet cement, shattering his nose. Groaning in helpless frustration, he felt a cold metal grip on his shoulder, and found himself staring at a walking machine with glowing blue eyes.

Steve stumbled back and groped for his shield. His fingers just scraped the rim when the man with glasses picked it up and offered it. "Listen, my name is Bruce, and this is Tony. I know you just met us, but we are in a lot of trouble right now. The people who held you are going to kill us on sight. They don't care who or what we are. Once we get out of here you are free to leave ok? I don't want to hurt anyone, and unless you help, I will have to."

Steve studied Bruce's face, scrying for any misinformation the doctor might be feeding him. Steve stepped closer and looked into his wavering green eyes. There was something unnatural about their colouring, and Steve focused on it, growing quiet. He watched Bruce's eyes widen with interest and Steve suddenly felt his world _tilt._He reached out to Bruce to steady himself and the man caught his hand in his own and pulled his back upright. Something about Bruce, was familiar. Like some half remembered song tickling the back of his head. "Do I know you?" He blurted, and dropped his hand slowly. "Why do I feel like we've met before?"

Bruce looked to tony, and sensed some subconscious exchange. He heard tony sigh deeply, and Steve relaxed, realizing there was a man under all that metal. Bruce raised his eyebrow in question, and receiving a shake from tony he looked back almost _tearful._ "That is a very long and complicated answer. But I swear, that when we are safe, I will answer you." Bruce took off his glasses and rubbed them on his shirt, same way Dr Erskine did.

Steve gambled quickly with his thoughts. Bruce seemed to be, for the moment, at least voice was calm and steady, but nearly too much so. Bruce measured every word, clipped his answers short, and did not mention anything more than the bare minimum. But his _presence..._**  
**

Steve could literally feel waves of _anger_ roll off him. The type of raw fury that Bucky went through when Steve was coaxing him to let out the details of his capture. The same glowing resentment that Steve carried with him, day to day after killing him.

But Bruce crafted his actions and mannerisms so well, they showed of rehearsal in their smoothness and near minimal information, the hidden intent, and the practiced body language all screamed to Steve of "espionage." His training was screaming at him not to trust these men, not to go with Tony, who refused to show his face and Steve was unsure if he was entirely human. But his gut told him otherwise. He felt instantly at ease with these men, and they seemed to be waiting on him to take control. When he moved forward, they moved back.

Realizing Steve had been quiet for too long, he spoke up, testing his instincts against his training. The most recent undercover agent identifications he could think of was a few weeks old, but it was all he had.

Steve pointed to the ceiling with his left hand and spoke with inflection. "_lovely_ weather we're having, isn't it?"

The man in the mental suit knocked on the side of his head, and Steve reflexively swatted it away. "Helooooo? You have frostbite cap? No sky up there, and that "thunder" is boot-steps searching for us."

_Damn _he cursed. Not a proper answer, in code or not. But their faces remained calm, no twitches of recognition or odd inflections that could signify lying.

"For now I'll trust you. But when we get-"

"Yea yea capsickle, later." Tony snarled at his words and opened the door. "Ladies first!"

Steve instinctively raised his shield, blocking for an incoming blow, but thankfully the hall was empty. He signaled for the others to follow. A warm hand on his shoulder had him flinching, but Bruce held his gaze, and gestured to the right. Steve leaned close to the door, waiting for the shudder of running steps. After several heartbeats of silence, he opened the door outwards.

Rough concrete stairs spirals upwards, and rusted metal pipes served as crude handrails. A quick glance up served to confirm it was empty. Steve led the way, fighting hard against the deep ache of muscle fatigue in his legs. Every step was an effort, and by the quarter mark, he was clasped the cold metal handle, steadying himself as he opened the door-

Shots rang out off Steve's shield, the jarring force shaking his body. He stumbled into Bruce, and heard the scientist iron man caught his arm, wrenching it back hard enough to slam him into the wall. Bruce was clutching his arm, blood flowing down between tight fingers. Steve raised his shield to protect them and tried to see Bruce's wound.

"No! Steve go-" Bruce howled and Steve _froze _when the doctor's skin rolled over swelling muscle and bone. Steve tried to hold Bruce down, tried to keep the deformity from growing. "Bruce- I've got you, I've- "

"Cap! Don't touch him-" Tony screamed and stumbled under a hail of bullets.

Steve tried to reach for tony, to steady him. As he lunged forward, he let go of Bruce, and an ear shattering roar echoed off his ribs. Steve turned, mid fall, to see the doctor _erupt _Into a monster. The thing snarled and lunged, but tony pulled him back over the edge. Steve choked on his heart as he fell, and then gasped as he rocked upwards. He turned to yell at tony, to fight him, to turn back, but the metal man rocketed up the stairwell. Steve watched in horror as the ceiling closed in on them and seconds before they would have hit, Steve raised his shield to block the blow. Steve's already injured arm dislocated entirely and tried to scream, but Plaster and rubble cascaded around his face, smothering his pained cry. They rocketed up through a metal roof that squealed over his shield and frozen air burned his lungs. Steve began to struggle to breathe, tasting metal on the back of his tongue. "Hic- To-ony.. Can't-" Steve gasped and struggled to stay awake. Black assaulted his vision, and Steve Rogers lost consciousness.

_- Hours later -_

Steve felt something cold and thick slide down his throat . His nose burned as it was forced deeper and he coughed, trying to dislodge it. Someone forcibly held his jaw, and continued to feed the tube down inside him. Steve opened his mouth to scream, and felt A thick tube go down his windpipe. Hot air seared his lungs, and Steve's eyes watered in protest.

All he could see above him were searing lights and a shape of a man. Steve tried to snatch at the shadow, anything to make the intrusion down his throat stop. But his hands caught at the wrists.

Suddenly the large tube hit something inside his lungs and Steve began to cough up water violently. It flooded the tube and gurgled up with sporadic gasps. A high pitched beeping assaulted his ears and he thrashed side to side, trying anything to breathe again.

A vacuum whirred and Steve _really_ couldn't breathe as fluid was sucked from his lungs. He fought the process, the desire for air so strong that he became an animal, thrashing violently and biting down on the tube in an effort to sever it. Something sharp and metal was wedged into his mouth, and Steve felt teeth crack as his jaw was forced open. His chest heaved in an effort to gain any trace of air, but the suction pulled his diaphragm up. His back arched clear off the table and he twisted to the side, trying to gain any leverage. His back slammed back down, and Steve's hands clawed at the bed. His fingers were going numb, and his vision black. His head swam and lolled to the side.

_Please._ Steve begged with his eyes. _Please let me breathe!_

A small two tone beep echoed in his empty head, and with a punch to the gut, the hot air returned to him. Steve greedily sucked in breath after breath of metallic air. He gasped several times, when the air switched to a rhythm of pulses. He found if he relaxed his body that the machine would breathe for him. If he tried to take in more on his own, he choked and 's mouth was quickly drying out, and he could taste blood from where the metallic vice had cut into his gums. Steve coughed to show his discomfort, and rolled his tongue over the ringed air tube to push it away.

A hand covered his mouth, and shook his head forcibly as in "No." Frustration boiled over his throat and he tried to bite down on the metal gag, only to have it cut in between the splinters of a back molar. He screamed in agony, the shattered tooth digging into a nerve that made his entire head throb.

Then, like a jackhammer to his raw wound, ice cold salt water sprayed from a unfelt nozzle, coating his dry mouth and washing away the swallowed the mess reluctantly, as a different cold feeling worked from the tube in his nose. He shook his head back and forth, trying to communicate that he didn't want this, but the shadow around his bed just kept moving back and forth, ignoring him. The alien sensation worked up his nose, and down his throat, and past his esophagus. Steve's skin crawled as he realized he was being tube fed.

He screwed up his eyes, in an effort to see whoever, or whatever was doing this to him. But the harsh yellow light burned his eyes. He blinked rapidly to clear the blue sunspots from His vision. A slight pressure on his temples made him shift, and he realized someone was placing sunglasses over his eyes. Steve tilted his chin up, eager to get them on so he could see.

Steve's surroundings came into focus, muted with a sickly brown tint from the glasses. His eyes locked onto the profile of a man, placing bottles of hot water under Steve's arms and back. He moved with precision, never once taking his eye off his work. Steve watched the oil stained hands twitch as they lifted up his knee, and he groaned at the added heat. This caught the man's attention, and his eye flickered to Steve before looking away hastily. Steve continued to make grunts and moans, trying to get the man to pay attention to him. The twitches in the man's hands grew more noticeable the louder Steve became, and he began to bear his teeth in a silent snarl.

Steve watched the man rub his cheek, brushing some itch from his short goatee, and glare at him from the side. Glad to have inflicted some minute reaction, Steve kept up his noise, kicking and fighting as the man lifted up his hips. As the man's head turned, Steve felt his skin crawl.

One side of the mans face was etched in deep scars. From his lip to his broken hair lines, lines curved almost in a spiderweb pattern, radiating out from one ghostly bright blue eye. Every intersection of scar tissue, a little blue light shone out, and it gave the man the effect of a toxic coloured jack-o-lantern.

Steve kept the mans gaze and watched in horror as the man took Steve's length and began to push a small tube down inside him. C_atheter _Steve realized and his stomach rolled as he felt it slide up to his bladder. Steve felt him secure the line with a little tape, then placed an empty bag on the side of His bed. The man wiped his hands on a rag and began to walk out of Steve's field of vision, ignoring more protests. A heavy metal squeal echoed off the shipping container walls, and Steve felt the shudder as it slammed shut, and the rustle of chain told him he wouldn't be back anytime soon.

Steve let the machine breathe for him, trying to calm himself down. The man, most likely Tony, didn't seem to be outright harsh. He seemed indifferent, almost numb. Steve looked around, Trying to gain as much information as much as possible. The more he knew, the higher his chances of escaping were. Or at the very least, He could find some foothold to negotiate with.

The plastic covered mattress crinkled noisily under him and stuck uncomfortably to the back of his calf muscles. As Steve flexed his legs to unstick them, the padded leather cuffs on his ankles stretched and cracked. The leather was old and dry, and as he rolled his back to adjust his position, small tears in the plastic mattress itched at his hips and shoulders. He tilted his head and he noticed a faint smell of vinegar and antiseptic wafting from the old mattress. His cheek came away wet, and it began to sting slightly.

Whoever set up his bed, must have done so quickly. Judging from the worn nature of the mattress, They were clearly not expecting anyone injured. But what would be the cause for that? did they think they were invulnerable? Not likely. Steve would bet Tony, and possibly Bruce must have either another medical center, or had limited supplies and scrounged for what they could find. The medical equipment beside him was dinged and missing several panels and buttons. Exposed wires spilled out of the sides, coiling like snakes on the floor. They disappeared somewhere under his bed and Steve took an experimental wiggle to realize the bed was bolted.

Steve turned his head as much as he could but all he saw was the rough corrugated walls of the shipping container. The only light came from the operating table lamps, but the hue reminded him of vita lamps for pale children. Apparently tony Thought he needed vitamin D. Steve felt Slightly calmed by this simple gesture of consideration. At least Tony or Bruce wanted to keep him alive. And the food tube, although incredibly uncomfortable, added to that. Steve shifted in his bed, pulling in slow even movements on his arm restraints. The brittle leather looked heat shocked, and if he kept up his actions, hopefully it would snap.

_Pull... Release. Pull... Release._

Over and over Steve repeated the mindless movement. The creak and crack of the leather cuffs synced up with the soft beep of his heart monitor. His muscles fell into the comfort of repetition and soon noticeable cracks appeared in the leather.

Steve's mind wandered as he worked, thinking back to what had happened to Bruce. He had never seen a man change in such a way before. The sheer intimidating power of his presence, and the pure muscle growth had terrified him. To create so much new flesh would take more energy than a baseline human would have. Steve wondered if the man had been born that way, or if he had been an experiment like Steve had been. But the one aspect that bothered Steve the most, was that Bruce's very eyes had changed. The intelligent and warm eyes had dissolved into a dark volatile green. His _Soul _had been consumed by something else, and that thought terrified him.

Steve's cheeks burned with fury when he thought of the man they left behind. He pulled tighter on the bonds, using his pent up energy. He had to go back. He owed Bruce that much. Finally his hard worked paid off, and Steve broke the leather on his wrist. As he started to sit up, sharp pain radiated from his chest. The tubes cut into his lungs, and he coughed hard as the flow of air became restricted. Steve quickly lay back and let himself swallow several lungfuls of hot air. Once his vision cleared again, Steve took the breathing tube in his hand, and began to pull. The thick tube slid out painfully slow, and Steve gagged on the unfamiliar sensation. The hot air scalded his throat as the tube scraped it raw. By working it side to side, Steve managed to pull it completely out. The tube hissed angrily as it fell to the floor, thrashing about from the great fully took in breaths of his own, greatly relieved to have some sort of control. He gently pulled the metal bit out and gasped as the ache throbbed in his molar.

The feeding tube was next, and he began to tug on the anchoring end. It held fast, and as he yanked harder, pulling the machine onto the ground with a sickening crunch. Immediately it began to squawk an alarm, loud enough to echo in his container. Steve rushed to pull the tube free, but the rustle of the chain on the door startled him. Steve twisted his body, readying for an attack. The doors swung open, slamming hard enough to shake the container. Tony barged in, wearing the metal gauntlets from his suit. One of the palms glowed the same sickening blue as his left eye.

"Captain Rogers, stop your actions immediately." Droned a monotone British voice from Tony's throat.

Steve coughed as he tried to regain his composure. "What are you?" he blurted before he could think.

The glowing man stepped close to Steve, and gripped his wrist painfully tight. "Master tony and I knew it was a mistake bringing you here. If master Bruce hadn't insisted on waking you up, we would have left you frozen. You are a tool, not a guest. And you will be cared for as long as master Tony's temper allows. I recommend you behave."

Steve was taken back by Tony's demeanor. His mannerisms and voice were terrifyingly strange, even more so as he opened his mouth and faint blue glow flooded the back of his teeth. There was something unstintingly _inhuman _about the man, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Steve spat blood on the floor, trying to clean his broken tooth with his tongue. "I don't know what you are but Tony promised me answers." Steve struggled to get Tony's grip on him to release, but the gauntlet held firm. "Stand by your word Tony. As a man." Steve tried, hoping the insane man would listen to calmer words.

Tony's body chuckled, the light flaring in his eye. "Master Tony is resting. I am Jarvis. I am not a man." The _thing_ began to force Steve's one free hand down onto the table. Steve resisted, growling with the food tube still in his nose. "Then why are you holding me like this? can you answer that?" Steve struggled as Jarvis bent a metal bed brace around his hand. Steve began to fight as Jarvis righted the machines and began to reconnect the lines. he watched in horror as he sterilized the breathing tube in a tray of water.

"NO! Jarvis,Tony.. whoever you are, I don't need that I can breathe-" Steve fought as Jarvis gripped his jaw.

Jarvis grinned. "Yes you can breathe without it. but your lungs are saturated with ice crystals, and I disagree with your voice. It grates on Tony's ears." He forced the metal bit back into Steve's mouth and he gagged on the metal taste.

"No- no Jarvis wait please-" Steve begged and slowly began to feed the tube back into Steve. His throat was forced open roughly, and he gagged as it brushed the back of his soft palate. down and deep it went, sitting in Steve's chest like a dead weight. His skin crawled and he arched his chest in a futile attempt to dislodge the foreign body.

Steve looked pleadingly to the mechanical man.

"Bruce should be back in a few days. I suggest you take the time to rest." Jarvis rolled his mechanical eye and slammed the door behind him. Steve heard the chain rattle as it was locked again.

_- Hours later -_

Steve closed his eyes and tried to settle into the rhythm of the machine. It was better to be limp, let the pump do its work. His heart still hammered in his chest, making his blood pound so hard he was having difficulty hearing. something shifted inside him and he felt the cold food push down the tube again and sit un-moving in his stomach. The sensation of being "full" without eating was incredibly _wrong_. He sneezed as the flow increased and the temperature burned down his sinuses and at the back of his throat, where the pain from his broken tooth throbbed.

After half an hour of watching his stomach artificially fill, the process stopped, and Steve sobbed with relief. he tried to wiggle his head to dislodge the tubes again, but he succeeded only in getting a mouthful of drool on his crude pillow. The sensor in his mouth sprayed a little water and Steve swallowed greedily .He held himself motionless as he thought, trying to tell himself this wasn't really happening to him. He wished he was somewhere else, anywhere, and his brain flashed images of his bed, the barrack's cot, Peggy's couch, His and Bucky's shared bed.

_Oh..._

_Bucky...god Bucky I wish you were here. I wish you could bust through that door and carry me back home. the only place I felt safe was in your arms. I miss you. Every single second of every day. I wake up and think of you, I sleep imagining you holding me close. I'm sorry... Im sorry I couldn't reach you. I swear I tried. I close my eyes and all I see is your face, confused and hurt. Your hand reaching for mine. And I dropped you. I let you fall Bucky. Its my fault. Got you killed._

Some part of Steve's mind knew he was sick. A Sedative, or blocker must have been laced in the food. His mind rolled endlessly like a lifeboat on a windy day.

Time stretched into immeasurable patches of consciousness.

Sometimes Tony/Jarvis would appear, to change his catheter, or check his restraints. Every time Steve tried to call out, but Tony seemed to argue with himself.

At some point The yellow light was removed, and the darkness nearly made Steve loose the smaller version of his mind he was left clinging to.

_-Days later-_

Steve didn't even bother opening his eyes as the doors to his container opened. _what was the point?_ But as the lights snapped on, he howled and twisted away.A deeper voice than his captor rang out, arguing with the metallic voice of Jarvis. Someone was pulling at his restraints, undoing him, and nearly screaming in their effort to drive Jarvis away. The tubes were pulled from his groin and mouth, and Steve took a garbled breath as he was picked up and put on a soft slab.

"Why?" He asked the man as he was wheeled out of the container. Steve himself didn't know if he was asking _why now? why did you do this to me? _or, _why bother?_

His head lolled uselessly as he was taken along a rough hewn stone corridor. Crude lamps lit the way at every turn, and the farther he went, the warmer and more humid it became.

The gurney came to a jolted stop, and Steve found himself being picked up, _ no.. cradl__ed_ to someones chest. A shirt button rubbed against his cheek, and he gently pried it open to move it. The man had a soft patch of hair on his chest, and Steve found himself nuzzling into it. This person was warm, and kind, and his heartbeat was incredibly calming.

Hot steam touched his feet, and Steve kicked away absently. "No" he managed through his haze of drugs.

"Its alright I'm just going to give you a bath. Its alright Steven." The comforting voice murmured and Steve nodded. There were flecks of hot water splashing on his body as the man waded into the rocky pool. Steve groaned in pure pleasure as the heat began to sink into his bones. The water rose past his chest, and he was placed on a roughly carved slab for a chair.

"Breathe deeply Steve, It will help clear the mess out of your body. that's it... good! nice and slow." The man spoke, and Steve grinned drunkenly. He reached out to touch the man's face, hoping it would anchor him.

Short, oaken, mousy curls crowned the man's broad forehead. Warm amber eyes glimmered from crinkled laugh lines and thick lashes. The square and foggy glasses had slipped down his roman nose and Steve watched as he licked his full and pink lips. A stubborn chin finished his proud jaw-line and Steve couldn't resist tracing his hand down the rough stubble. "Bruce." He remembered proudly and felt the smile under his hand.

"Yes, that's me." Bruce chuckled.

Steve smiled briefly before clutching his sides and keeling over in agony. He bit his lip and winced as his body contracted in spasms.

"Steve, its ok, just relax. Your body is flushing the chemicals out of your blood. Keep breathing and it will pass." Bruce consoled and held his hand over Steve's back to steady him. Heat built up in Steve, and he became incredibly faint. He gripped the side of the rock and tried to steady himself against the tide of nausea. His breath hitched in his throat, and he broke out in a cold sweat. Steve watched his hands turn pale, sickeningly so, and his body shook. Blood pounded in his ears, and he could barely make out what Bruce was saying. Bruce shoved a bowl in his hands, and just as Steve looked down on it, his stomach emptied violently. Steve gasped for air between diaphragm contractions, and groaned as he was forced to heave over and was dimly aware of the doctor stroking his back the way his mother used to when he would have an asthma attack.

After he had dry heaved several times, Bruce took the bowl away and placed it on the ledge. He swam back with a bottle of water, and a small handful of yellow squares. Steve balked at the offering, refusing to trust food or drink. Steve watched the man sigh heavily. "It's not drugged. I swear I won't ever do that to you. Look." Bruce unscrewed the water bottle and swallowed a mouthful, and took a small cube and munched on it happily. "Ginger candy, a weakness of mine. Tastes like soap, but it will help with your stomach."

Steve took the water bottle shyly and sniffed it for any odd odor. Taking a risk, he sipped it. The water was cool and sweet, and Steve rinsed his mouth out and spat several times before drowning the water. Steve rolled the candy in his fingers for a moment, and popped it in his mouth just as Bruce had done. His jaw ached at the effort of real food, and even though it was soapy, it was delicious. "Thank you." Said Steve, leaning back against the rock wall.

Bruce swam to sit beside Steve and offered him a cloth. "Do you think you can manage on your own?" He asked, being polite enough to keep his eyes locked to Steve's own. Steve nodded, Still weary, but wanting desperately to have some control back. He noticed Bruce respectfully adverted his gaze and had done up his soaking dress shirt. "Ill manage. any soap?" he asked and was handed a dish of white flakes.

"It smarts, but it will get you clean." Bruce smiled and looked longingly at the ceiling.

Steve washed his face and hair, trying not to get the stinging mess in his eyes. He thought carefully on what he was going to say. he wanted to know why Tony seemed to be two people, his unusual scars,or why Tony treated him like a piece of meat. as he scrubbed his three day old stubble, he blurted out the first thing he thought of. "What are you?"

Bruce chuckled sadly, pushing his wet fingers through his hair. "In simplest terms? A monster."

Steve's stomached flipped at Bruce's choice of words. "But your human now. I mean not that you are a-" Steve made a gesture of a raised fist. "Big green guy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be blunt. I've just never seen anyone like you before." Steve asked and began rinsing his face. He scooped up the hot spring water and poured it over his head. He used the sudsy water to wash down his arms, and stopped abruptly. "You were shot! Right before you.. Changed... How bad was it?" Steve's stomached rolled freely now, still sickened that he had left an injured man behind.

Bruce leaned against the side of the pool, "It's alright, I've come to terms with it. I had an _accident _a few years ago and this was the result. I've found a way to control it over the years, but every once in a while, _Hulk_ needs to make an appearance. I'm sorry if I scared you."Bruce gave a small smile and rolled up his sleeve to expose the fading round scar. "One benefit of the hulk, I heal really quickly. See? No harm done?"

Steve reached out and hesitated before touching Bruce's arm. He saw the line where the bullet went through his arm, and followed it where it stopped. "That's actually something I can relate to." Steve murmured, and gestured to small scars along his chest and arms. Steve leaned on the ledge and blushed as he cleaned the rest of his body as carefully as he could.

Steve winced slightly, his shoulder still sore. "Bruce..." Steve started, his heart tight in his chest. "Am I your prisoner here?" Steve swallowed nervously and steadied himself against the wall.

Bruce sighed heavily. There was so much he wanted to tell Steve. "No. Well, not exactly. Steve I'm sorry. It's really complicated. I want to tell you. I really do, and I swear I will but-I need to talk to Tony."

Steve frowned. "So I am your prisoner." Steve snorted, his trust in Bruce waning. He finished washing and shot a dark look at him. "Look, if it's information you want from me, I won't give you a single sentence. I'll silence myself if you try." Steve spat in the water, rolling his tongue over the cyanide molar.

"I have to admit, that ruse was pretty impressive. But why go through all that trouble, to get me on your side?" Steve growled and crunched the stone under his hand, his frustration of the last few days catching up. "What am I to you? A bargaining chip? A source of information? Or did you need a new play toy, _doctor_?"

Bruce raised his hands up in defense, "No Steve, it's not like that at all." Bruce shrank away as Steve towered over him, shouting in his face. "Steve please," he begged, trying to keep his temper in check. "We need you. My life, Tony's life, and yours are all at risk. We could die Steve. And you are the only person who can save us."

"You have a hell of a way asking for a man's help." Steve growled and snatched a towel from beside the bowl. He wrapped it around his waist and waited. "Why didn't you just ask General Phillips? Why did you... Freeze me? I don't get it Bruce."

Bruce pulled himself out of the pool, shaking his wet curls out. "Steve you don't understand. I didn't freeze you. Tony didn't freeze you. You froze to death when you put the hydra plane in the water...over 70 years ago."

Steve looked to Bruce and blanched. "What?" He gasped and closed his eyes. Tony's odd appearance, the medical equipment. Steve shook his head violently. "No. Your lying. I can't be-" Steve stumbled backwards and fell to his knees. His arms slumped uselessly at his sides. "No..." He feebly whimpered, and kept clenching his fists. "I can't be here. I... Oh god... Peggy.. I'm so sorry. I didn't-" Steve began to sob violently.

Bruce stood at a distance, wanting so badly to comfort someone in pain. He was a doctor after all, it's what they did. "Steve? Hey..." Bruce got down on his knees and held out a hand for Steve. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you differently. Break it to you slowly, but you were so upset! I-I just wanted to help. I'm sorry."

Bruce sat cross legged on the floor, playing with his hands awkwardly. "S.H.E.I.L.D, they-they did something. Something that effected everyone but you. Whatever they did, you are immune to it." His voice faltered a little as he remembered all the trauma Steve went through, why would he _want _to help _them_? "Of course, if you'd rather just leave, I know a way out. You'd be free from me, from Tony and Jarvis, from SHEILD, everyone. You could live the rest of your days in peace and forget any of this ever happened. Just do one job, and I'll let you leave."

Steve clutched his knees, breathing heavily through his mouth in an effort to keep from passing out. This was too much to take all at once. He hung his head and kept his eyes shut.

"I need... to think through this. I owe you for saving my life. You brought me back with.. " Steve touched his lips at the memory of Bruce's upon his. "...With your own breath. I'll consider your _request_, since you asked nicely. But I will not be _stuffed _and left tied down like I was before. Promise me, your word as a man, you won't ever restrain me like that again."

Bruce nodded and motioned for Steve to follow him. The pair walked through a small hallway and Bruce placed his hand against the wall. A green light illuminated under his touch and the wall in front of them shifted to the left.

Inside was a small bedroom with a bathroom. It wasn't lavish but it was livable. "I didn't tie you down, just so you know. Jarvis- something's wrong with him. Something happened, something bad. And I intend to find out what it is. You'll be safe here. I won't tell anyone where you are staying. If you need to get out of the room, press here." Bruce motioned to a hidden panel under a painting. "And you saw how to get in."

Steve nodded and ran his hand along the roughly carved cave wall. "Clothes?" he asked and Bruce pointed to a small wooden crate.

"Its not much, But it will keep you warm." Bruce shrugged. "I'm going to talk to Tony and Jarvis about what they did. I'll bring some proper food when I come back. And when I do, I'll let you ask me some questions." Bruce sighed and palmed the door button on the way out.

Steve dried his body with the old towel around his waist. He hung it on the back of his cot, because the feeble hook beside the door didn't look like it would hold a tissue.

He opened the lid on the small wooden box and shook the small splinters from his hand. Inside were small packages of clothes. Steve fumbled with the unusual opening, and pulled out a pair of white boxers. He slipped them on, unfortunately a little tight, and rummaged through to pull out blue slacks, and a plain white shirt. Steve rummaged for a jacket, or blanket, but the little box held no more.

a sliver of metal was nailed to the wall, and Steve looked at his growing scruff. He couldn't see any razors on the bedside stool, or double checking of the tiny crate. Steve decided to go in search for it, and hopefully he could find out more about where he was in the process.

As he put his hand on the door, something twitched in his back. He held his back still, and began to move in tiny increments to try to pinpoint the location. Steve rolled his shoulders and gasped quietly as he felt a hitch between his shoulder blades. Steve removed his shirt carefully, and craned his neck against the sliver of mirror nailed to the wall. Sure enough, Steve noticed one of his old scars over his spine was inflamed, and he gingerly touched it. Something thin and hard had attached itself to his spine under his skin. As Steve probed the mark to determine the size, a bone-numbing electrical shock coursed through his body and he crashed to the dirt floor. Steve's body twitched against his will, and he screamed through clenched teeth. His body slumped uselessly when the pulse stopped and he rolled to his side. Panting, Steve crawled onto his cot, and collapsed into unconsciousness.


End file.
